Fatebinder’s Edict of Fire

Fatebinder’s Edict of Fire is a random encounter in Tales from the Tiers.

Transcript
The air shimmers under the pressure of the blistering heat. Your clothing clings to you, sweat dripping from your chin. Fissures rupture the ground, flames leaping upward in wet bursts to lick at the twisted bronze and iron spines that shatter the landscape. The warmth cloaks itself in moisture from Haven's many waterways, transforming into a dense humidity that clings to your skin. The Contested Lands, long blackened by the Overlord's Edict of Fire, find no respite under yours. Trees, granted a brief reprieve from the flames, burn again, filling the sky with thick clouds of acrid smoke. Steam bursts from the ground in high-whining streams, forced up through the long pillars of stone by the pressure of its own expansion, scalding any unfortunate enough to be near a rupture when it occurs. The bowl of Vendrien's Well seems to trap the heat, mixing it with the water from the wide rivers into a humidity as oppressive as a tyrant's reign. On the side of the road ahead you see a pair of Beastmen haulers lounging beside an unmoving cart. They have spread themselves on the ground, backs flat against it, arms spread to either side, mouths open and panting. Investigate further. Avoid them. As you approach the cart, you make out a small pile of refuse. On moving nearer, you realize that it consists of two or three corpses, possibly caravan merchants or guards. Even from a distance you can tell that the bodies have been torn apart, the bones cracked and sometimes cleaned of flesh. You give the pair a wide berth and they make no move to interdict you. You continue towards your destination. Attack the Beastmen. Speak to the Beastmen. Continue on. The Beastmen barely stir as you fall upon them, opening their throats to water the parched soil. You claim the best of the goods from the cart and continue on your travels. One of the Beastmen raises its head... barely... when you address it. It makes no move to stand, instead issuing a low moan and letting its head fall back to the ground. Ask them what happened. Drive them away. Leave. You turn your back on the Beasts and continue down the road. You shout invectives at the Beasts until they struggle to their feet and lope away, leaving the cart behind. You rummage through it and collect the best of the goods, then continue along the road. In grunts and groans the Beasts complain about the heat, about how hard they'd been driven by the merchants, and about the abuse hurled at them by the deceased caravan guards. Execute them. Continue... Continue... The air shimmers under the pressure of the blistering heat. Your clothing clings to you, sweat dripping from your chin. Continue... The air shimmers under the pressure of the blistering heat. Your clothing clings to you, sweat dripping from your chin. Continue... The air shimmers under the pressure of the blistering heat. Your clothing clings to you, sweat dripping from your chin. Continue... The air shimmers under the pressure of the blistering heat. Your clothing clings to you, sweat dripping from your chin. Continue...